Page 82 of Murder in Calusa Cove
“Not about this.”
She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. “No. Not about this.”
They stayed like that for a beat—just breathing, skin against skin, hand in hand—until the machines beeped and the fluorescent light buzzed, and reality gently nudged its way back in.
“Don’t scare me like that again,” she murmured.
“I’ll try not to,” he said. “But if it’s you on the line next time…”
“I know.”
They both knew.
This wasn’t about perfection. It was about survival. Trust. And love, messy and complicated and painfully real.
She kissed him gently, then rested her head on his shoulder—his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.
For now, that was enough.
20
Two weeks later…
Hayes eased back in his Adirondack chair, the stitched-up wound in his side reminding him with a sharp tug that he wasn’t invincible. He reached for the cold beer sweating beside him on the table and took a slow sip. The sun had just ducked behind the mangroves, leaving the back patio bathed in soft gold and shadow.
Dawson and Audra sat curled together on the swing, his hand resting protectively on her leg, while Trinity leaned into Keaton on the bench, her bare feet tucked beneath her. Fletcher had one arm slung around Baily, who somehow made sipping lemonade look like an act of rebellion—of course, everyone was surprised she hadn’t shrugged Fletcher’s arm off.
It was progress, and that was something.
Chloe was perched beside Hayes, her legs pulled up under her, hair tied back, and eyes soft every time they met his.
It had been a long couple of weeks. And for the first time in a long damn time, Hayes felt like he could breathe again.
Dawson broke the quiet first. “It still feels surreal. I mean…Dewey?”
Everyone nodded.
Baily exhaled, crossing her arms. “The town’s rattled. He’s been a staple in Calusa Cove since before I was born. He fixed boats, cleaned up storm damage, and helped build the new dock at the high school. He wasn’t anyone’s best friend, but he was always just kind of there.”
“And he hid fingers in jars out in the Everglades,” Fletcher muttered darkly.
Keaton swirled the ice in his glass. “People are scared. Confused. Some of the families of the victims came forward after the news broke—said they feel peace now. Others are just… angry. Like the betrayal cut deeper because it was someone they trusted.”
“Chloe got hit the hardest,” Audra said gently. “And yet, somehow she’s still standing.”
Hayes reached over, lacing his fingers with Chloe’s. “She’s not just standing,” he said, his voice low but steady. “She’s building something new.”
Chloe smiled, eyes glinting in the amber light. “I handed in my resignation last week. The FBI accepted it yesterday.”
“Are you sure?” Trinity asked. “After everything?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” Chloe replied. “I need roots. A reason to stay still. I’ve got that here now.”
Dawson grinned. “I’d say the Calusa Cove PD is lucky to have you. I’m excited to be working with you, especially since Remy is retiring.”
“I’m still keeping Buddy on speed dial, though,” she teased. “Old habits die hard.”
Fletcher leaned forward, his expression shifting. “Speaking of things we haven’t wrapped up…Tripp’s journal.”
